Harry Potter and the War of Choice
by Hippity
Summary: Harry's hit by a curse. Complaining about his lack of choice he's given one fifty-six years earlier. The Chosen One joins the 506th during WWII.
1. Volunteer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Rowling is nice enough to let us mess with her characters. I mean no offense to the real men of Easy Company. This fiction is based on the Band of Brother's mini-series with well-known events of the war thrown in i.e. the march to Atlanta.

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><p><strong>Harry Potter and the War of Choice<strong>

Chapter One: Volunteer

In retrospect, Harry thought that he should've said he'd like to live happily ever after. However he was a little too much of a live in the moment kind of guy for that type of an answer to come out of his mouth during a stressful occasion.

Voldemort was dead and he'd been asked about his future by a disembodied voice. Instead of answering, he'd asked why he couldn't have had a choice. He'd spent months traveling the countryside searching for Horcruxes only to end up in a battle at Hogwarts. He was sick of his prophecy induced fate and with the death of some of his friends he just wanted to forget about it all and be left alone.

Some random Death Eater was able to hit him with the curse that knocked him out. He didn't know who or what it was but that wasn't the important bit. He reckoned someone from the Order would take care of it. His biggest problem was that he'd never even _been_ to America.

The whole thing was a bit suspect really – most likely he reckoned it was a vision caused by some kind of fatal wound. The voice had told him "you now have a choice," and then he woke up. In New York City. In 1942. June of 1942.

Looking down at himself he noticed the voice had dressed him appropriately for the weather. And the fashion, but running his hand through his hair proved that it was as big of a mess as always. However, his glasses were missing. He could see clearly.

It's while walking down the street and looking at all the propaganda posters that he actually realized what his choice was exactly. He could ride out the war here in safety. Get a job, a place to live, figure out how to return. Or he could try to get to Britain and fight for a country that had already been at war for a few years and that he wouldn't technically become a subject of for another thirty-eight years - For King and Country. Or he could enlist in the American military and help out that way. It didn't matter what decade he was in. His choices were always awful.

The problem with going to Britain was the slight issue of Grindelwald. Harry didn't want any part of the magical component to the war. He'd fought and won one magical war already. This one was left to Dumbledore. And didn't that thought bring up all sorts of emotional conflicts. Albus Dumbledore's relationship with Gellert Grindelwald was still surprising and something he definitely didn't need Harry's help to solve. As far as he can remember the American magical community didn't get very involved in Europe they focused their attention on the South Pacific.

Of course the best choice was to find a way home _geographically_ _and temporally_. The only way he knew how to do that was a conversation with a disembodied voice that only appeared when near death. What better way to become near death than in a war? It worked once. And since he didn't have any possessions or money he might as well get involved in the simplest way. So he followed the signs to a recruiter's office. The muggles needed all the help they could get, right?

Lying seemed to be pretty easy in the recruiter's office. It helped that the disembodied voice had supplied him with some documents.

Name: Harry James Potter

Date of Birth: July 31, 1924

Birthplace: Godric's Hollow, England

Current Place of Residence: New York City

When asked his age he responded eighteen even though the Staff Sergeant was clearly holding his ID that said he would be seventeen until the end of July. There was also a poster on the wall that informed everyone that lying on an enlistment form was a federal crime. Harry didn't look at it. Neither did the Sergeant.

He told the Sergeant at the office that he liked heights. The Army Air Force seemed like a good way to get that happy feeling he'd always had on a broom.

The recruiter suggested something a little different.

* * *

><p>One good thing about living in New York City was the ease Harry had in finding a room to sublet for a month and an under the counter job unloading trucks that got him through those weeks.<p>

There were service men everywhere. New York was the last major stop before the troops were sent to Europe. Occasionally he'd get to talk to them when he'd have lunch at a diner or bump into them in line at the theater. Weirdly enough whenever he told them he'd volunteered for the airborne they smirked at him and told him he was crazy. He gave up trying to figure out what it was he'd volunteered for.

He spent most of his money on food, the room, and nearly every night he'd visit the theater to try to understand the culture he'd suddenly been plunged in. He learned all about John Wayne, Marlene Dietrich, and Rita Hayworth. The clips of the war made him nervous. He remembered Fred. He thought of Remus and Tonks. He worried about Teddy and all the orphans of this war. How many Harry Potters were being raised by unwelcoming relatives because of this war? It was a thought that had never crossed his mind.

Binns spent too much time on Goblin Wars. Harry knew only the things he had learned in Primary and the random facts Hermione had managed to shove forcefully into his head.

The clips of Hitler were familiar but seemed unreal. Like a story from childhood that had suddenly became reality. His enemy didn't invoke the fear in him that he seemed to in the rest of the moviegoers.

He spent his free time thinking about his back story. His glasses might have disappeared but he knew people would ask questions about an English boy in the American army. So he became an orphan sent away during Operation Pied Piper, not to the countryside, but to New York City to more distant relatives. If anyone asked he'd just say his Aunt and Uncle had the money to make sure Harry didn't join up voluntarily at fifteen.

Anything odd about his behavior could be blamed on being British. Or rich.

* * *

><p><em>Lt. Sobel had absolutely nothing on Professor Severus Snape,<em> Harry thought to himself. He was petty and snide but he hated everybody equally. Except perhaps Lt. Winters who he hated more, but that was not Harry's problem. He was a private and hadn't yet earned any jump wings and had had very little contact with any officers at this point.

He'd arrived at Camp Toombs a few days before his birthday. Before its name was officially changed to Camp Toccoa. Troops were arriving a few at a time. It was apparently the first time the army would train civilians directly as paratroopers. He'd been lined up with the others that arrived that day. Assigned seemingly at random to a company, issued gear, and then shown to one of the barracks where he was then issued a bunk.

It made the cupboard under the stairs look like a well furnished option. The Corcoran boots made him long for a cushioning charm. He'd had a month to get used to a straight razor but he still tried to cast a Lumos at night or in the early morning since there weren't any electric lights in most of the buildings. Magic was a hard habit to break.

Admitting his magical heritage might make Harry more comfortable but he now had an image in his head of the war in the Pacific. And that was just the images they were _willing_ to show the public in 1942. He didn't really want any personal memories. Muggle artillery could destroy a man but magic had the potential to be worse.

As the men trickled in that week Harry got to meet the other troopers. Unfortunately, his accent meant everyone knew who he was even when he knew they'd never spoken.

Standing at attention was miserable. It was one of Sobel's favorite things to use to enforce discipline. Georgia had miserable weather. Standing here and listening to Sobel's most frequent power trip didn't help improve it. Harry couldn't help but think of his first five years of potions lessons when Sobel got like this. Harry looked in front of him and saw Nixon swat at a something that landed on his neck.

He imagined the lieutenant saying 'ten points from Gryffindor for blousing your trousers, Potter.' Sobel's whine just didn't have the impact on him that Snape's tone used to carry. In a lot of ways Sobel's temperament seemed much more similar to his Uncle's. Nothing was ever done right according to either one of them. Not that Harry wasn't aware of the power Sobel held.

"Name." Sobel barked out suddenly appearing in front of Harry. Perhaps he shouldn't space out so much he thought to himself.

"Potter, Harry J., sir."

"Your hair needs combed, Private Potter. A soldier should be well-groomed at all times. Pass revoked."

"Yes, sir." Harry responded as Lt. Sobel moved to a new victim. No surprises there he thought to himself.

"Name."

"Liebgott, Joseph, D., sir"

"Rusty bayonet, Liebgott. Do you wanna kill Germans?"

Harry stopped listening to Sobel at that point. He never had to listen to the faults of James Potter from Sobel's mouth unlike Snape. He just got comments about himself. It was refreshing. It was like living with the Dursleys but with more people to share all the nasty comments with. He'd been conditioned for this since he was a child. Maybe when he got back to his own time he'd look into a career in the British military if the Auror Corps didn't work out.

Sobel broke into his thoughts yelling, "I wouldn't take this rusty piece of shit to war… and I will not take you to war in your condition. Now thanks to these men and their infractions, every man in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it. Change into your PT gear. We're running Currahee."

He was definitely the Chosen One alright. There could be no other reason to get stuck in this company.

Forced out of his thoughts Harry watched as Sobel walked away. Winters dismissed them and Harry joined the others running into the barracks to change their gear.

"Don't worry about it Perco," Harry said as they were walking to get into formation. "Your trousers were fine; he knew he was going to take away everyone's pass before he started in. Martin's just annoyed at Sobel."

Perconte replied, "It's alright but you really should do something with your hair. It does stick up every way. Though it was ridiculous for Sobel to gig you for it. It's not like he could see it with the helmet on anyway."

"Maybe, but it's as short as it's ever been and it somehow looks worse." It had been Harry's biggest problem since he was assigned to Easy Company. Sobel always thought he looked like shit because his hair wouldn't ever lay flat. It wasn't as bad when they were in ODs because the helmet covered it up, but any time they had a uniform inspection it caused a problem and the garrison cap actually seemed to make the matter worse. Whichever way he tilted it would make the hair on the other side of his head disheveled.

"Besides," Harry continued as they lined up in formation, "If I did manage to comb my hair to Sobel's standards he'd gig me for something even more ridiculous like when he told Parks off for dirty ears."

With the company formed they began running up Currahee.

"Do not help that man! Do not help that man. You do not stop." Sobel screamed as they ran up Currahee yet another time. Harry thought he was a decent runner before he joined Easy. _Three miles up. Three miles down._ Now he just thought about making it to the next obstacle. Twenty-six minutes to the top was his current time. Going up was awful, especially in full gear but going down was worse. Technically easier but gravity, terrain, and tired legs couldn't be trusted to get you to the bottom safely.

The first time they ran it in full gear he tripped coming down and rolled over ten feet. The only good thing about that was it was ten feet less he had to run. Unfortunately, Sobel had always latched onto any weakness he could find and that's when Harry started to take a lot of his scrutiny. Winters helped pull him onto his feet after his tumble down the mountain.

"Are you alright Private Potter?" the Lieutenant asked him dragging Harry to his feet as he passed by.

"I think so," Harry replied grateful for the help up, "Thank you, sir." Harry wasn't even aware Winters knew his name. He was the platoon leader for second and Harry was in first. Harry knew one thing though. Sobel didn't like it when the men helped each other. There was no doubt Winters would pay for this act of kindness later.

* * *

><p>August and September passed Harry by in a daze. Twenty-four minutes up.<p>

Guarnere is the first man to call him a limey and ask why the hell he wasn't already in the British army. So Harry gets to try out his back story for the first time. Harry explains that he was sent away before the war made it to British soil but he's eighteen now. The guys mostly seem to believe it. A lot of them mumble about how nice it must be to have enough money for transatlantic travel, a few others remark about the Oh So Social.

Harry doesn't point out that he volunteered for the same combat unit they did. Technically he did have enough money to his name to buy his way into the OSS, but Potters fought like men. He wasn't a coward but he doesn't want to get into it. Gonorrhea's one of those guys that pushed everyone. Harry doesn't really care about pushing back anymore.

Lining up for landing practice out of the makeshift wooden airplanes was Harry's favorite obstacle. Sobel never had a good thing to say about the landings but Harry couldn't wait until they were in a real aircraft and he could look out at the scenery. He was disappointed at first for not getting into the Air Force, but he wasn't the type of guy that would've been selected for pilot. So he'd still be stuck riding. Airborne was a good alternative. He'd get forty-five seconds of control in the air and then he'd fight. Hopefully they'd be able to jump more than once.

By the end of November, Harry manages not to anger Sobel enough to get transferred out. He gets through the obstacle course that Sink apparently designed and his time up Currahee is at twenty-three up. The thirty-four foot drop tower is the best fun he's had since he started. Unfortunately they're being reassigned to Fort Benning for jump training so he still hasn't had a chance to fly.

They get word that Second Battalion is going to march to Atlanta before heading to Benning.

The 118 mile march from Toccoa to Atlanta was like every other event in his life. Ridiculous and miserable. It was meant to inspire the populous and prove how much the Americans were a better fighting force than the Japanese. There were a few good things. Sobel wasn't the highest ranking officer and couldn't make Easy's trip any worse than it already was since it was all of Second Battalion of the 506th PIR.

Reporters frequently met up with them on their four day journey and would walk a few miles. They were interviewed, pictures were taken, and they were allowed to sing to pass the time. It gave the civilians a picturesque version of the army and gave the guys a break from the monotony.

Every step he took towards Atlanta was another step up Currahee he didn't have to run.


	2. Jumping and Combat Training

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Rowling is nice enough to let us mess with her characters. I mean no offense to the real men of Easy Company. This fiction is based on the Band of Brother's mini-series with well-known events of the war thrown in.**

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><p><strong>Harry Potter and the War of Choice<strong>

Chapter Two: Jumping and Combat Training

"Think we'll get a chance to go to the Post Exchange?" Harry asked the guys around him as Fort Benning rolled into sight.

"I dunno, it'd be nice," Blithe mumbled as he looked out the window around their new home.

"Don't get your hopes up. Sobel will make sure we don't have any free time," Liebgott responded from the seat ahead.

Harry, like many of the other guys, had problems getting his jump boots back on after stopping their second night on the way to Atlanta. As a result Blithe had helped him make a cut down one side in each boot.

"Even the guys that could get their boots on will need new ones," Harry said to no one in particular, "but I can't deal with any of Sobel's surprise runs or forced marches with these. Once the swelling goes down I won't even be able to keep 'em on."

Blithe looked down at the boots, "Sorry 'bout that."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Don't worry about it, Al. If you hadn't helped me I probably would've finished in nothing but my socks." Harry looked at him, "I can't imagine what punishment Sobel will try to give the guys that didn't make it all the way. Think Sink'll transfer them out of the regiment?"

Blithe shrugged and returned to the window.

"Get a look at this place. Must be great to train on an established base. I bet these boys even have electric lights in their rooms." Muck said from the back of the bus.

"Sure is busy around here," Harry overheard Shifty say as he exited the bus and tried to find Blithe in the mass of men.

In the distance Harry could see the jump towers.

* * *

><p>As it turned out Currahee had trained them well. The first week of jump training was supposed to be dedicated to conditioning the men; however, the 506th was collectively more fit than any of their new instructors. They were soon skipped to the next stage of training.<p>

The C-47s rattled something awful but Harry was ecstatic over the view. It compared not at all to his Firebolt but his current position 800 feet above the ground was the highest he had been in ages. He was the only guy on the plane that looked thrilled. Looking down the line Harry thought most of the guys just looked kind of surprised it was actually going to happen.

Albert Blithe, who Harry had gotten along with very well in Toccoa, actually seemed to be enjoying himself. Harry thought Al would most likely be sorted into Hufflepuff if he ever went to Hogwarts. He was a good guy but he wasn't overly brash like a lot of the others. He kept to himself and he didn't care that Harry was English. Mostly he didn't ask awkward questions so Harry felt like he wasn't lying all the time. It seemed fitting that Al would be alright jumping from a plane. He was always staring at the clouds or the stars when the company was outside.

"Standup, hookup!"

Before he knew it he was shuffling to the door. He got a few seconds to stare out at the landscape and to his left he heard, "Go, go, go!"

Screaming out as he was taught "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand" the thrill of the drop took over. He was snapped out of his glee as he felt the canopy open and slow his descent. He took hold of the risers, checked that everything was alright, and then marveled at the landscape. Around him his fellow paratroopers were making their first drop and deployed canopies filled the sky.

Skydiving couldn't compare to a ride on a Firebolt but Harry thought it was a pretty great thrill of its own. He couldn't wait for his next four jumps. If only it wasn't over so quick.

He let out a grunt as he touched the ground and rolled to his left. Standing up he took inventory of himself and gathered his chute. He looked around and noticed Blithe to his right gathering his own chute. "Alright, Al?"

"Yeah, that was great wasn't it?" For once Albert didn't look distracted by anything. Harry had found himself someone he could relate to completely at that moment.

"Yes it was," he agreed.

* * *

><p>Around him men were drinking, smoking, and having a good time in celebration of the jump wings they had finally earned. Harry was hanging out at the bar occasionally chatting with Luz as he served drinks. After his speech, Col. Sink, Lt. Col. Strayer and the rest of the Battalion staff left along with Sobel. Easy's other officers stayed and made rounds checking up on the men before they too left to enjoy the rest of the night.<p>

Looking around the room Harry spied Nixon drinking from a flask instead of the beer that Luz was handing out. Winters, as company XO, was making sure to congratulate all the men on their achievement. Easy only had two losses through this stage of training, both of which were refusals to jump. They would most likely be transferred to the regular infantry. Harry couldn't think of anything worse after surviving Sobel's leadership for five months. Of course he didn't understand why they were nervous anyway. He was always happiest in the air.

"Private Potter," Winters said as he approached Harry, "Congratulations. How did your last jump go?"

Harry grinned at the officer. "Fantastic, sir, I love flying and being in the air."

"Not your first time flying then? Any particular reason you chose the airborne over the Army Air Forces?"

"Honestly, it was the idea of a smooth talking recruiter. I think it's for the best though. I wouldn't have liked being on a bomber squad or even worse - carrying supplies. The infantry suits me better, sir. I'm a hands on kind of guy."

"Glad to hear it, Private. Enjoy your night." Winters said and then moved on to talk to Luz.

Behind him Harry nodded to Nixon, "Good evening, sir. Having a good time?"

Nixon grinned, "Not too bad. How about yourself?"

"Happy to be a paratrooper, sir. Any news on what's next?"

Nixon nodded, "We're being moved to the Alabama side of Benning in January for further training. You boys are going to get a furlough before we officially move."

"Sounds good, sir."

Nixon smirked and bid Harry a good night before he joined Winters near the door.

"Hey Potter, want in?" Malarkey called from the other side of the room. "We're getting a poker game together."

"Sure, are we betting with cigarettes again?"

Muck smirked, "Yep, but I don't see why you bother since you don't smoke."

"It just means I have nothing to lose, Skip," Harry answered.

* * *

><p>Almost everyone headed home during their furlough. Harry didn't feel a need to head all the way to New York City just to be alone so he hitched a ride to the closest major city, Atlanta. He'd spent six months in the past, but Atlanta was where the culture shock truly hit him for the first time. Up to this point his biggest problem had been an inability to rely on and be surrounded by magic. When he had moments alone he tried to cast wandless charms. Little things that he figured would help him in the field (warming, cleaning, drying, and cushioning.) He'd had a decent amount of success with it, but wanted to find a wand now that his stuff wouldn't be tossed every other day by Sobel.<p>

The first thing he noticed when he got to town was that everything is segregated. The American Army was segregated but he hadn't noticed it very much. He was lost in his own problems. Atlanta made no apologies for it. The buses, the stores, the theaters. A lot of places had signs refusing service to coloreds, jews, and catholics. It made him extremely uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of the blood purists. Not knowing what to do about the problem, Harry continued his crash course in 1940s culture while simultaneously looking for an entrance to a magical shopping center.

By the end of the week, Harry hadn't made much progress in either goal. He found a bus that would get him to Benning and settled into the idea of going back to the U.S. Army. He knew there were still two and a half years of war left to fight and now that his basic training was over it would only be a matter of time before Easy Company was chucked into the madness.

The next day Harry was awoken by Sergeant Boyle's shouts for everyone to get up. Easy Company was rushed into formation with the rest of 2nd Battalion.

Looking around Harry didn't understand why the entire Regiment was in formation but he quickly realized it was a drumming out ceremony. He watched as Sink stripped jump wings from anyone that arrived late from the furlough. Jeeps were parked behind the unlucky few and were already loaded with their packed duffels. They were merely waiting to be driven to their new assignments.

Harry glanced down at his month-old boots as the guys were ordered to unblouse their trousers and take off their Corcoran jump boots. His new boots were a size larger than the old ones. He now knew that it was easier to wear an extra pair of socks than it was to squeeze swollen feet into a well-fitted pair of boots. And they were always encouraged to have extra socks. Looking up he saw the men up front handed standard issue footwear and watched as they climbed into the jeeps.

Easy Company was dismissed shortly afterwards.

"Good thing I didn't travel very far." Harry tells Blithe that night as they're cleaning their weapons and shining boots.

"To go this far to be kicked out like that is .. It's just unbelievable." Albert says.

Harry nods and remembers to arrive a day early from any furlough they may be given in the future.

"It would be humiliating to have all of your hard work taken away in front of the entire regiment," Harry adds.

Albert doesn't have a response. No one mentions that it seems unfair. They were used to Sobel's insane punishments.

* * *

><p>Their move to the other side of Fort Benning begins their training as a battalion and regiment. Now that they're all paratroopers they're expected to know individual tasks and begin working together as a team.<p>

"Too bad we're back with Sobel full time." Harry complains one evening at supper. "He's still treating us like we just arrived."

"At least there's no Currahee." Hoobler responds setting his tray down on the table.

"Yeah, now we're limited to endless forced marches." Muck answers, "At least we knew how far Currahee was..."

He's interrupted as everyone in earshot suddenly yells out "Three miles up! Three miles down!" The other companies quiet down and start staring but Easy continues as if nothing unusual just happened.

"Exactly my point." Muck responds smugly to the crowd. He looked down at his plate, "Now, anyone know what this meat is supposed to be?"

"Thinking about it makes me ill," Harry answers.

"Skip's face does that to a lot of people, Harry," Malarkey quips as he joins them at the table.

Muck good naturedly shoves Malarkey to the side as he sits down.

"Faye Turner doesn't seem to mind." He tells Malarkey and the rest of the table.

Spotting Albert leaving the mess facility Harry takes his leave, "Don't get him started about Faye again. I know more about Tonawanda then I'll ever need. See you gentlemen later."

"What gentlemen?" Harry hears Penkala ask as he leaves.

* * *

><p>At the end of February they're moved by train and then bused to Camp Mackall, North Carolina. They begin focusing on training regimental tactics, night manoeuvres, and continue making practice jumps. In the process they seem to march all over the South. Harry's done more traveling through the U.S. than he has anywhere including his year on the run from Voldemort.<p>

Sobel's leadership continues to wear everyone down. Having the fortune to be placed in First Platoon, Harry is almost always with Sobel during their training exercises. Everyone begins to notice that the Captain doesn't handle being out in the field well. His training at Toccoa was harsh but Sobel could compete with the rest of the men physically, even if his attitude left a lot to be desired. His inability to handle actual fighting conditions began to concern Harry as well as the rest of the company.

They're given another furlough in June. Harry makes his way to Virginia Beach. He doesn't know how to find a magical community, let alone in a small town so he decides to spend his week laying in the sun. It's probably the first time Harry's ever experienced idleness on purpose. He'd had a lot of down time but most of it was spent waiting for something to happen. Indeed he was still waiting to be thrown into combat, but getting away from the restrictions of army life was necessary to preserve his sanity.

Laying in the sun Harry pondered the company. He didn't notice it much while he was in the thick of things but thinking about Easy made Harry worry. A bad leader could really hurt the company. Winters was the only original Easy officer left. Harry respected and liked the junior officers in Easy but it seemed they were all jumping ship or being promoted to Battalion. If they kept transferring out he didn't think there would even be any Toccoa men leading by the time they entered combat. Except Sobel and that thought terrified him.

"Nixon's been promoted Battalion. We're getting a transfer from the 82nd." Ed Tipper tells the boys one day. "I overheard Sobel telling Sergeant Evans."

"So that leaves us with Winters as the only original Easy officer? Couldn't they give us a Toccoa man at least to replace Nixon?" Harry asks.

"Sobel's a Toccoa man." Blithe points out.

"Sobel doesn't count. I think we should find a way to get rid of him. He's gonna get us all killed," Liebgott says. "What's the new lieutenent's name?"

"Welsh," answered Tipper, "Harry Welsh from Wilkes-Barre, PA. Sure are a lot of you boys from Pennsylvania, Blithe."

"Seems that way." the blonde said.

"Must have a hell of a recruiter for the paratroopers up that way," Harry responds.

Talbert jumped in. "Is that why you volunteered for the paratroopers, Harry? I read an article in Reader's Digest about them. I wanted to be the best."

"I love flying and being up high. Didn't think I had much of a chance of becoming a pilot without finishing school. The recruiter told me about the airborne. I thought it was a great idea. Still do. I've had a great time during every jump." Harry answered.

"Isn't that why you were in America?" Luz asked. "You said your family got you out before the Battle of Britain."

"Technically, but I missed my school in Scotland and never bothered to go back to school once I left Britain. The war messed everything up." Harry vaguely answered.

"Boarding school?" Liebgott asked with a smirk.

"It's a very popular custom in England. Anyway, I don't have any family left. Not in Britain or the U.S."

"No family at all? Christ that's tough." Luz said.

"There's a reason I was sent away you know." I hope there's a reason I was sent here, Harry thought to himself. "I've been an orphan since I was nearly two." Harry shrugged. He didn't want to talk about his relatives. Most of them were dead and the few he had left he didn't want to see. Not that he could see them as it was currently 1943.

He continued, "I have an Aunt and Uncle. I haven't heard from them in years." Let the guys come to their own conclusions. Allusions to the blitz would work.

* * *

><p>In July they're moved to Fort Bragg for more training and the initial preparations for overseas movement. They get inoculations, issued new equipment, and a company photo is taken before they're sent on a train to Camp Shanks, New York to be sent to Europe.<p> 


	3. England

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Rowling is nice enough to let us mess with her characters. I mean no offense to the real men of Easy Company. This fiction is based on the Band of Brother's mini-series with well-known events of the war thrown in. _There will be very little magic. Also for one reviewer: Gonorrhea is Guarnere's nickname in the series._

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><p><strong>Harry Potter and the War of Choice<strong>

**Chapter 3: England**

Camp Shanks, New York

September 1943**  
><strong>

Harry was thrilled they were heading to Europe. He'd still had some lingering doubt that he'd end up in the Pacific despite actively avoiding that fate. Now that they were in New York like the soldiers he'd talked to before he shipped to Toccoa he was certain Europe was their destination. He was less thrilled that he'd be entering combat and his new friends would become casualties. He was already familiar with the loss of friends in combat and felt that it wasn't fair that these men would soon learn the cost. At the same time he was impatient for something to happen. They'd spent more than a year in training and he was anxious for anything to happen. Patience was a virtue he didn't possess.

New York City wasn't as interesting to Harry as it was to a lot of the guys. He'd spent over a month living there and had seen a lot of the tourist sights already. Furthermore, the guys were annoyed that they had to remove all their unit patches and wear their trousers un-bloused so that German spies couldn't report on troop movements. There was a real risk in letting the Germans know that an airborne division was about to set sail for Europe. Not being able to brag about being a paratrooper dampened the spirits of a lot of men, Harry included.

"Easy listen up," Winters yelled out a few days before they were set to leave. The company was gathered in one of the lecture areas at Camp Shanks. Sobel was no where to be found leaving the most unpleasant and pointless tasks of organizing the men for movement to the junior officers. "The war department has issued some information to help ease our intrusion into England and to prevent any misunderstandings."

He started handing pamphlets to the men at the end of each row. "Think I will disturb the natives, _Lef-tennent_?" Harry joked to Winters as he reached his row.

"It's reassuring to know there's at least one man in this company that won't start an international crisis, Harry. I'll be sure to send the boys to you if they have any questions."

"Er... thanks, Lieutenant. I'm looking forward to it." Harry took a pamphlet and passed the rest down the row.

"Not that you sound particularly English to us anymore, Harry." Malarkey said.

"You guys are a bad influence, Malark. I've picked up Americanisms." Harry replied in a twangy American accent.

"What the hell was that?"

"Like I said, you're a horrible influence, mate." He flipped the paper over and started reading.

o.o.o

"I want to find a top bunk somewhere," Harry said as the boys made their way down to the cargo area. After loading _the Samaria _they'd stayed up top to watch as the troop ship set sail. Harry and Blithe, with some of the others boys from Easy, watched as the Statue of Liberty shrunk in the distance. The ship had been built to house 1000 passengers but had been modified to transport 5000 soldiers. There were people everywhere.

"Guess this is it boys," Grant said with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Lucky us," Harry replied. "Let's go find a place to sleep." Harry said gesturing to Blithe.

"Yeah." Blithe turned and they followed the other soldiers down to their designated bay.

Harry spotted an open rack and started climbing. "Lookout Liebgott," he said as he climbed to the racks above him. Luz was already lounging in the rack underneath Harry's chosen spot.

"Hey Al, take this one quick before someone else gets it." Harry motioned for Blithe to grab the cot up top next to Harry's. "I'd hate for one of the boys from Dog or Fox to be next to me."

A familiar looking guy the next aisle over replied, "We don't want that neither. We know who the best company is."

"Good for you." Harry replied as he leaned over to grab Blithe's bag. He tossed it on the open bunk and gave a hand to his friend.

"I grabbed a deck of cards from that drugstore Tab took us to. How 'bout a game?" Blithe asked.

The sounds of another conversation interrupted them. "Sobel, that prick's the son of Abraham." Gaurnere said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Liebgott questioned.

"He's a Jew."

From down below they heard Liebgott throw his cigarette down and jump off his rack. He walked over to Guarnere and leaned into his space. "I'm a Jew," he said.

"Congratulations. Now get your nose out of my face," Gaurnere replied pushing back on Liebgott's chest.

Liebgott lunged at his fellow paratrooper.

"Sure, Al. Sounds a lot better than fighting about Sobel," Harry replied watching as the guys tried to separate the two Easy troopers. Blithe settled on the rack next to Harry, propped himself up on his things, and started passing out the cards.

o.o.o

"Come on Harry. Give a guy a break. I know you don't smoke 'em anyway." Luz said to Harry poking him through his bunk during their eighth night on _the Samaria._

Harry shifted as another jab from Luz hit him in the right shoulder. "Maybe you should have thought about that before betting them yesterday."

"How was I supposed to know you were any good at poker?"

"Skip and Malark taught him." Al joined in the conversation, "You can blame them."

"Yeah," Harry said, "Get them to replace your pack of cigarettes. Or you can buy them from me. Your choice."

Luz jumped down. "Skip! Hey Skip! I need to talk to you."

"What are you gonna do with all those cigarettes you've won?" Albert asked. He was laying in his bunk with his arms crossed behind his head.

Harry smirked, "No worries. I have plans for them. Just as soon as we're off this ship. You eat anything today?"

"No. I'm glad I didn't join the Navy. " Al mumbled looking a little green. He rolled to his side and scrunched up.

"If we have to fight as soon as we're off this damn ship the Germans are definitely going to win the war," Penkala said.

"It's not the ship. It's this nasty English food they keep serving us." Skip replied walking sideways through the aisle.

Trying to give Albert some space, Harry sat up and hung his legs over the side to watch the other guys. "Don't know why you boys are complaining, I'm doing just fine."

"Imagine that, Malark. The English boy can tolerate English food." Skip climbed into his bunk. "I think we'll have to make sure he continues the privilege of his home fare when we reach land."

"It's been nice to get some proper tea for a change." Harry responded. He pat the cargo pocket on his left leg that had a small tin of tea bags he'd traded for cigarettes from some of the crew. "How'd you get rid of Luz?"

"Gave him a cigarette. He went topside. Why do you keep taking them when you don't even smoke?"

Harry laughed, "You'll see."

The ship lurched violently and Albert moaned. "It's not just the food."

Harry started to climb down. "Al, I'm going to find Doc Roe. Maybe he can give you something to settle your stomach."

"He doesn't get sick in the air, but he's motion sick from a boat?" Skip asked in disbelief.

o.o.o

"They sure are happy to see us." Floyd Talbert said as he hitched his bag over his shoulder. The dock was filled with civilians calling out and waving to the troopers.

Harry looked over, "Of course they are, Sarge. We're actual proof that help is on the way and they've been at war for four years."

"I'm just happy to be on solid ground again. I'd rather be on a plane than a boat," Blithe said walking behind them. He looked exhausted and drawn out.

"Anyone know where we're headed?" Christensen asked.

"I'm pretty certain we're going to Berlin," Skip responded.

"Not the best choice of a vacation spot, Berlin," Luz joked as they were put in formation.

Lt. Welsh walked up from the front checking on the company. "Let's head out boys, hubba hubba."

"Where are we headed, sir?" Blithe asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, Blithe."

"Well he's cheerful today." Luz said hitching his bag over his shoulder.

"What do you expect? The officers have been sharing quarters with Sobel the last two weeks." Guarnere responded walking by them to hook up with Second Platoon.

"Guess our accommodations weren't too bad after all." Liebgott said as he took the spot behind Harry.

"So Potter, where do you think we'll end up?" Liebgott asked him as the convoy hit the road. They were walking in two long columns down the road. Albert was to his left. Liebgott was directly behind him.

"How would I know, Joe? I haven't been in England in years."

"Well you're the one most suitable to telling us."

"I think you have me confused with Nixon. He's the Battalion Intelligence officer. Bet Sobel knows too as CO. I personally try to limit how much time I spend asking Sobel questions. Feel free to question him if you like."

"If Sobel's supposed to get us there we'll be marched into the Channel." Liebgott replied as he lit up a cigarette.

"Looks like rain," Blithe said looking up as always.

Harry looked at his friend and then looked at the sky. "Get used to it. I for one will not miss the Georgia heat."

Their destination turned out to be a train station. They were packed into passenger cars and sent to Aldbourne. Unfortunately, their arrival at Aldbourne just meant more training operations.

o.o.o

"Why do we always end up on Sobel's team during these exercises?" Harry said to Luz as they made their way across another random English field.

"You should feel bad for Tipper. He's the one trying to teach Sobel how to read a map." Luz grinned at Harry and took a drag off his cigarette.

"It's not like anyone else wants to deal with him either. Our damn CO can't read a map after a year of this, but we're supposed to follow him into combat?" Perconte turned around and joined in their conversation. He grabbed Luz and said "Georgie, you know you want to give your pal Frank a cigarette."

Luz shrugged off Perconte's arm. "Get your own."

"Christ, it's starting to rain again. All it ever does is rain on us." They heard Liebgott's complaint from the back of the line.

"Blame Sobel."

"Should've been in Second or Third. I could be with Heyliger or Winters or somebody." Dukemen said.

Harry watched as Sobel, Tipper, and First Sergeant Evans surrounded the map. Sobel and Evans nodded in agreement and Evans turned to approach the group.

Harry whispered to the others. "Here comes Evans."

"Find cover along the fence, guys." First Sergeant Evans ordered the platoon.

They all looked at the fence that sectioned off the field. It was a section about twenty feet long made from split wood.

"What cover?" Albert mumbled to Harry as they made their way over.

"You're kidding right? We're kind of exposed here. Shouldn't we try to find our objective?" The complaints of the platoon started to get louder.

"Light and noise discipline!" Sobel shouted before climbing over the fence and looking through his binoculars towards a group of trees. Harry watched as Tipper shook his head and pointed towards another section of the map. Evans took the map from Tipper and Sobel resumed studying.

Harry leaned against a post. His helmet was tilted to the left as he looked to the horizon. The rain started to get heavier; only his feet were dry, protected by his regularly polished jump boots.

"Think we'll find the objective before or after we're ambushed?" he asked.

"At the rate we're going, we'll probably drown in our own foxholes." Perconte replied. He was crouched down with one knee on the ground. "You're standing in the open, Potter."

"I want to provide a clear shot for a sniper. Why couldn't he get us to the trees if we were going to stop moving?"

"There's someone in the trees." Shifty gestured to the tree line in front of them.

"I don't see anything." Luz said.

Albert replied, "Me neither."

Harry focused on the area and saw a glimmer. It was probably a reflection off someone's rifle or wristwatch. "Shifty's right. Probably one of our other platoons. Looks like we'll be ambushed before reaching our objective. Funny enough Sobel just looked over there with his binoculars."

"Don't warn him, I'd rather lose another exercise and be done for the day." Perconte rolled his eyes. "We're always getting rained on."

"He'll just make us run. You know it's our fault he can't read a map." Harry looked down the line as the group of forty men tried to take cover from the ever increasing rain behind a tiny wooden fence.

Dukemen wiped the water off his face and said, "Is it our fault that he always leaves us out in the open?"

A hundred yards in front of them Second and Third Platoons popped in sight.

Sobel looked surprised and stood there while the other officers from Easy joined him in the middle of the field.

"Well that's that, gentlemen. Any bets on who gets chosen as casualties?" Liebgott said as he hopped over the fence.

"They'll drown in all this rain," Perconte mumbled picking up his gear.

First Platoon picked themselves up and went to join the other enlisted men in the trees. Harry walked past Winters on his way across the field.

"Private Potter," the red-haired lieutenant said to him as he walked by.

Harry walked over to him, "Sir?"

"I couldn't help but notice you standing when the rest of the platoon was trying to find cover."

Harry paused and shifted his weight to his left leg. He moved his rifle strap to his right shoulder then replied. "I saw your platoon in the trees, sir."

"You didn't tell Captain Sobel, Private?" The lieutenant's head tilted just slightly to the right.

Harry risked a glance in Sobel's direction before he responded. "I didn't feel the need, sir."

Lt. Winters turned to look at Welsh who had a grim look on his face. Welsh shook his head. "You are to report any disturbances on the line, soldier."

Harry looked at the lieutenant and replied, "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Winters joined the conversation with the other officers and Harry walked over to the company. "Way to go guys, that's a fantastic cover you have there," said Malarkey gesturing to the fence.

Harry responded, "I'll join Second, you boys can deal with Sobel for a while. It must be nice traipsing across the English countryside with someone that can actually read a map. Evans and Tipper are always trying to fix Sobel's mistakes, but by that time it's too late."

o.o.o

"Don't say it. Please don't even say it."

"Sobel's lost again."

"It could be worse. It could start raining."

Harry didn't say anything. They'd been in Aldbourne for months and Sobel couldn't find his way out of a paper bag. Sobel was more incompetent than Lockhart. He was all talk. He didn't have any practical skills.

"Why is there a fence here? There should be no fence here. Tipper!" Sobel yelled out.

Standing right beside him Tipper replied with a quick, "Yes, sir?"

Sobel said, "Give me the map," and grabbed it out of Tipper's hands. He turned and said, "Perconte, Luz, Get the men... Take cover behind those trees!"

Luz ordered the group, "All right, let's go. Move it out, fellas."

First platoon grouped up behind the trees.

"Perconte?" questioned Skinny Sisk.

"Yeah?"

"Sobel's lost again, isn't he?"

Perconte nodded, "Yeah, he's lost."

"Fucking Christ..." sighed Skinny.

Perconte turned suddenly, "Hey, Luz! Can you do Major Horton?"

"Does a wild bear crap in the woods, son?" replied Luz in Horton's voice. The guys around him laughed.

"Maybe the good major can goose this schmuck. Get us moving?"

"No, no way. I'm not gonna." Luz replied shaking his head.

"Oh yeah! Luz, you gotta! Come on," urged Skip.

"All right, just this once. Shh!"

The platoon quieted and looked towards Tipper, Sobel, and Evans. Tipper was gesturing to the map.

Harry watched as Luz took a deep breath to prepare himself and then yelled out, "Is there a problem, Captain Sobel?"

"Who said that? Who broke silence!" Sobel spun around to look at the platoon.

Behind him Tipper was smirking and then said something too quiet for anyone in the trees to hear.

Luz continued his imitation, "What is the goddamn hold up, Mr. Sobel!"

Sobel looked around in a panic and then replied, "A fence, sir, a... God! A barbed-wire fence, sir!"

"Oh, that dog just ain't gonna hunt!" spit out Luz. It was a common thing for Horton to say, but the platoon busted out in laughter.

Luz gestured for them to stop and then hissed a quick "Shut up!"

"Now, you cut that fence and get this goddamn platoon on the move!"

"Yes, sir!" Sobel called out. Harry watched as Evans handed him wire-cutters. They were finally getting somewhere.

After finding the road Sobel made them get in formation and started running to the intersection that was their objective. The captain was running in the front and every so often would yell out, "Hi-yo, Silver!"

"I suppose stealth isn't part of the objective?" Harry asked.

"Don't knock a good thing kid. We're not lost and we're headed in the right direction," Perconte replied.

"We'll be massacred if he does this in combat."

"You actually think he'll last more than a day in combat?" Liebgott asked. "Either our side or theirs will make sure that doesn't happen."

"Looks like Second Platoon took the intersection," Albert told Harry. They watched as Sobel slowed down and looked at Winters.

"Good work, Second Platoon. We took the objective," the Lieutenant informed his men.


End file.
